


The Adventure Of The Gila Lizard

by Cerdic519



Series: Further Adventures Of Mr. Sherlock Holmes [11]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Lizards, M/M, Robbery, Treasure Hunting, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: In this story Sherlock has to deal with something vile, repulsive and self-serving – and as it's got four legs, it's not Professor Moriarty! But appearances can be deceptive, as someone is about to find out too late.





	The Adventure Of The Gila Lizard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clara954](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clara954/gifts).



_Introduction by Sir Sherrinford Holmes, Baronet_

The year of 'Eighty-One would see my brother Sherlock meet the man who would change his life like no other, Doctor John Hamish Watson, M.D. But before that great event he would encounter one of most remarkable cases, that of the venomous lizard or gila monster – although not perhaps as remarkable as the criminal mastermind who made use of one such aberration to further his own dark ends. Mercifully a now very dead criminal mastermind; from a picture I saw of it that is one huge monster.

Kean has just made a quite coarse remark about another huge monster.... Lord help me but the horny bastard is giving me that look again. I had better put my pen down right now!

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

_Narration by Mr. William Sherlock Scott Holmes, Esquire_

It was curious that this case should revolve so much around appearances, because the police constable who introduced me to it was a prime example of the maxim that they can often be deceiving. Constable Maurice Plank (born Maurits van der Planck in the Netherlands) had heard of my humble abilities because he was distantly related to Mr. Martin Vamberry, whom I had assisted in the small matter of his unwittingly employing a murderer. The constable was in some ways very much the atypical Dutchman; taller even that my own six foot, broad and blond but also seemingly slow to the point of imbecility. I strongly suspected that that had also been the impression of the criminals he had put away, until they found out otherwise. Nevertheless he had for once been confronted with a case that had flummoxed even him. 

It was summer, but a few months before my memorable first meeting with Watson, and London was as hot and unbearable as it always was and probably always would be. For what little good it did I had the windows of my room in Montague Street wide open, exchanging the hot air outside with the merely humid air inside. I was relieved when the constable called, although judging from his red face the landlady's daughter (definitely a woman rather than a lady) had clearly been making a play for him again. Poor fellow.

“How may I be of assistance, constable?” I inquired.

“By letting me out the back way when I leave!” the fellow grumbled. “That woman is a menace! I have a new case, sir.”

I looked at him thoughtfully. Our acquaintance had thus far been fairly brief, my only assisting him with a couple of very small matters, but I had developed a favourable impression of him. And I also knew the station he worked at, where certain other policemen had left a less than favourable impression on me. He caught my gaze and nodded.

“Sergeant Andrews gave it me.”

Ah, the old 'give the rising star at the station an impossible challenge in order to clip his wings' routine. I knew his 'superior' Sergeant Adonis Andrews, who had very clearly been named by his parents more in delusional expectation than any sense of reality; indeed his unpleasant exterior was more than matched by an even more unpleasant interior. A grasping fellow who would surely not have made it as far as sergeant had he not had family in the force, and regrettably one of those 'modern' policemen who were more concerned with being seen to do things than actually doing them.

“I am at your disposal”, I said. The young giant took a deep breath.

“Last month, a gang of four men broke into the vaults of the City & Provincial Bank in Duncannon Street, just off the Square”, he began. “They knew what they were after; Lady Morland's diamonds no less. We thought that we had cornered them there when there was a shoot-out – I swear sir, this city is getting more like the Wild West of America every day! - but two of them got away.”

“You know that for sure?” I asked. He nodded.

“Gangs are very parochial”, he said, “and these four have worked together for some years now. That bastard – pardon my French, sir - Mr. Bramble's motley crew. When we only found two bodies – Balls and Smith - so we knew Bramble and Harman had to have gotten away.”

“Their homes?” I asked.

“That was the odd thing”, the constable said. “We knew where they both lived of course but they both of them had the sense not to go there, more's the pity. We posted a watch on both places, but nothing for a whole week. Then one night Bramble must have slipped into his place under cover of darkness; we spotted him there the following morning. One witness is sure that there were two people in the house, so Harman may have been with him.”

“And you arrested them?” I asked. The constable shook his head.

“Either Harman killed him and fled, or some other con heard about the loot and tried to cut himself in”, he said. “Bramble was found dead, shot several times. Good riddance, in my humble opinion.”

“Did not the man you had posted hear anything?” I asked, surprised.

“The house is somewhat isolated, sir, and we had to post him across the street”, the constable said. “And the place is huge. Profits of crime I bet. Would take an age to search, and that doesn't include the grounds. And that's the other problem, which is why the sarge dumped the case on me. The next house along is owned by Sir Edmund!”

 _Now_ I saw his problem.

“As in Lieutenant-Colonel Henderson, Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police”, I said. “I am surprised that the vultures of the press have not fastened on that fact yet.”

“It's registered in his wife's maiden name”, the constable explained, “as she inherited it, but I'm sure they'll find out soon enough. And when they do I'll cop it for not solving the crime quickly enough.”

I thought for a few moments.

“Did this Mr. Bramble have anyone close to him to whom he might have transferred these gewgaws?” I asked.

“Two sons, sir. The elder, Gordon, is very much a chip off the old block; he tried to diddle his dear old dad out of the proceeds of one of his jobs some time back so they've not been talking since. The other one, John, is just as bad if not worse, but at least he's not been so dumb as to cross his dead old dad. Both cons, of course.”

“Of course, I said. “Will Mr. Gordon inherit the house?” 

“Eventually”, he said. Seeing my confusion he continued. “He is away in Germany just now, and young John has already moved in with his pet lizard. Two slimies together, I says.”

I looked up sharply.

“Lizard?” I said, perhaps a little too loudly. “Do you know what sort?”

“Only that they say it's one of them poisonous ones, sir”, the constable said, clearly surprised at my interest in a mere reptile. “Is it important?”

“When did Mr. John move into the house, exactly?” I asked. The constable looked at the calendar on the wall.

“Sixteen days ago, sir”, he said. 

Possibly too long, I thought, annoyed.

“Can you get one of your men at the station to bring Mr. John Bramble in for questioning?” I asked.

“We could”, the constable said. “But why?”

“Because I want him out of that house”, I said. “Someone inside it has the secret to locating where his late and un-lamented father hid the Morland diamonds, and I wish him not to be there when they are found. Although it all depends on that reptile.”

It was a strange coincidence that, at that very moment, the landlady's daughter knocked at the door and immediately opened it (as I said, not a lady) Constable Plank smiled at the timing.. 

“I think we need to go there _right now!”_ I said to him.

His look of gratitude was overwhelming!

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

It was just over two hours later, and the constable and I were at 'Dunrobbin' (I firmly held to the view that the French had one thing right in that some people should not be allowed to use certain names for their properties). We were in a large airy room that was dominated by a cage, inside which a two-foot long striped lizard was glaring balefully at us.

“You _sure_ it is not dangerous?” the constable asked warily. I noted that he was skulking behind me (impressive given his size) and bit back a smile.

“We shall be avoiding it as much as possible”, I said, “and its bite can be fatal if one does not get it treated immediately. But it is exceptionally slow-moving so we are safe. Indeed, it is rather akin to the most admirable bumble-bee if on a somewhat larger scale; both will only attack if provoked. We shall not provoke it.”

I carefully opened the cage door having already made sure that there was a clear passage all through the house for the creature. I only hoped it would not have to manage the stairs, but I suspected that that would not be a problem. For some little time it continued to watch us with sleepy half-interest, then clambered to its feet and lumbered through the exit, snuffling the floor as it went.

“The creature is a gila monster, from the south-western United States”, I explained to the constable. “As I said it can be deadly, but the only people who have been killed by it are those who either provoked or scared it by getting too close. As you can see from its gait, a man could out-walk the beast, let alone out-run it.”

“Still gives me the creeps!” the constable shuddered. “Why'd he not keep a cat or a dog like normal folks?”

“Because this creature might earn someone a huge sum of money”, I said. “Observe.”

The repulsive lizard had clearly picked up some sort of scent from the way it was sniffing around one particular patch of floor. It seemed to be thinking about it, then lumbered off slowly but purposefully. A child crawling on its hands and knees could have outrun the thing.

“Gila monsters have an exceptional sense of smell”, I said to the constable. “There are stories of them being able to track down an egg merely from it having been rolled across a surface.”

The constable's eyes lit up.

“I get it”, he said. “So Bramble hid the jewels somewhere with a load of food, and left a trail there?”

“Exactly”, I said. “Now where is it going?”

The lizard had hesitated briefly in the centre of the corridor before turning sharply and heading into what turned out to be the library. It trundled slowly across the parquet floor, effecting a neat quarter circle until it bumped up against a panel in the wall.

“Very good.”

We both span round. A sharply-attired woman dressed in what was almost a manly outfit was stood there, pointing a pistol at us both. 

“Harman!” the constable exclaimed.

“Always figured you for a sharp one, Plank”, the woman said unpleasantly. “And when I saw them dragging the boss off and you calling just minutes later I knew you had something. So the jewels are in there, eh?”

“I would recommend that you do not approach just now”, I said. The lizard was butting away at the panel which it had already pushed a little way back, clearly eager to get at whatever was beyond it.

“I'm not afraid of something slimy and repulsive”, she laughed. “I worked with Tony for three years!”

She walked over to the creature, being careful to keep some distance from us both. We both backed away from her. She looked down at the creature and frowned.

“Get out the way, ugly!” she said, kicking it with her boot.

That was the precise moment when Miss Harman made the unfortunate discovery that, whilst the gila lizard is exceptionally slow-moving most of the time, it can manage impressive bursts of speed when defending potential food sources. I did not even see it move but she uttered a cry of pain and fell backwards, the gun falling from her hand. The constable moved quickly to seize it; mercifully he did not have to go anywhere near the monster.

“You should go and fetch a doctor”, I told him. 

“Keep away from me!” the woman hissed, clearly in pain. “You're not saving me so I can bloody well hang!”

“As you wish”, I said simply. “We shall wait.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

We had to anyway, as the creature had to be allowed to have the meal that Mr. Bramble had so cunningly hidden behind the panel before it started the slow journey back to its cage and its water bowl. By that time our unwelcome visitor had stopped breathing.

“But why didn't John Bramble use the monster to track down the jewels?” the constable asked. “Surely he could've worked out what is dad did?”

“Because in the wild, the creature eats only very rarely”, I said. “They can go months without a meal, and then gorge themselves when they do find one. You can see the size of the beast; moving that bulk requires a lot of effort so few and large meals make more sense. He had to wait some considerable time for it to get hungry.”

“Lady Morland will be over the moon!” the constable grinned. “And Sergeant Andrews will be sour as old milk. You do not want your name brought into it, sir?”

“This should be your case”, I said with a smile. “Though if Lady Morland offers a reward, then yes, I would welcome a half-share of it.”

“Only half?” the young man asked, clearly surprised.

“You have your own life to build”, I said, “and doubtless some lucky lady out there to make a family with. Maybe even......”

“Definitely not Miss Lily MacAndrew!” he said fervently. “I'd rather go back and face that damn lizard!”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

_Postscriptum: It was definitely not Miss Lily MacAndrew, Indeed, about a year after this case the then Sergeant Plank met and started courting a lady who worked at the Dutch Embassy in London. They were married the year after that, and he transferred back to his native Netherlands where he did very well for himself. He had the great courtesy to name his eldest son Willem after me, and although I regrettably had to decline his generous offer to be the boy's godfather (I felt the distance involved too great for such a responsibility), I put a fair-sized sum in an account for him when he came of age._


End file.
